Being possessed of a large tract of valuable land upon the banks of the Mohawk river, then a dense wilderness, he commenced gradual improvements upon it, and in 1803 took up his final residence there. His friends often urged him to again become a member of the national legislature, but he declined entering upon any laborious public duties, except serving the district to which he removed one term in the state senate, and also of serving as a member of the convention of 1801, to revise the constitution of New York. He was four times a member of the electoral college of his state for the election of president and vice-president, and in 1800 he travelled two hundred miles to give his vote for his old companion and friend, Thomas Jefferson, in the dreary month of December. He continued to improve his new plantation until he saw the wilderness blossom as the rose, and his mansion surrounded by happy neighbours, all basking in the clear sunshine of that freedom he had been instrumental in acquiring. Envy was a stranger to his philanthropic and patriotic bosom; he rejoiced in the happiness of the whole human family; he delighted in the prosperity of all around him. In all things he was a practical man, free from pomp and vanity, and systematic in all his proceedings. When his purposes were formed, he prosecuted them with an unyielding energy that was seldom arrested or thwarted. He was possessed of a clear head, a strong mind, a good heart, a vigorous and sound judgment, matured by long experience and a close observation of men and things. He spoke but little in public assemblies, and rarely entered into debate. Happy would it be for our country if we had more men like William Floyd at the present day, instead of so many who _talk_ more than they _work_. Long speeches hang like an incubus over our legislatures, and those who feel disposed, are prevented by them from doing the business of the people promptly.